Rules Are Meant For Everyone
by Yumi-chan-likes-chainsaws
Summary: Alfred breaks a few rules and Arthur wonders whats so special about a damn jacket? GakuHeta AU Oneshot


**_Yumi- For USxUk Sweethearts week on livejournal._**

**_Bob- Yes._**

**_Oko- =D  
_**

* * *

**Rules are meant for everyone (_and that means you too, Jones)_**

* * *

It was just another day.

"Jones, is that school uniform?"

The taller boy ignored him, choosing instead to strike up conversation with the small Japanese boy who was attempting to enter the locker room unseen. Arthur watched, fuming, as the boy tried to excuse himself, and the rule breaking Casanova that was Alfred F Jones kept talking regardless.

Arthur hated when his rules were broken. Not that they were simply his rules; they were the rules of the school long before he had came, and he was going to enforce them, no matter what countless previous student council presidents did.

He breathed in, straightened his presidential armband and blew his whistle.

Loud.

And even that didn't make Alfred turn around. So Arthur stormed over and firmly grabbed the American's shoulder.

"Kiku, I need a word with Jones for a moment please," he said cooly, watching as the smaller boy apologized unnecessarily and scurried off into the locker room. Alfred grinned, looking down at Arthur expectantly.

"You needed to speak to me, prez?"

Arthur scowled up at the freshman, pointing to the brown bomber jacket he was attired in. "That. Take it off," he stated, tapping his foot impatiently.

For some reason, the other boy looked bemused at this notion. "Why should I do that?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

A vein twitched appropriately at Arthur's temple. He hated being questioned. "Because," he growled, the tapping increasing in tempo, "One, I told you to, and two, it's not school attire so save your stupid little fashion statements for weekends and take the bloody thing off!"

Alfred grinned, shrugging the offending object off his shoulders and draping it over his satchel. "Yah know," he pondered, staring and making the other exceedingly uncomfortable, "I'm wearing my uniform as well as this, so I really don't get what the problem is."

Arthur's eyebrows furrowed even more as he replied coldly- "It doesn't matter what you 'get', Jones; those are the rules.

* * *

"Hey, Kiku?"

"Ah! Arthur-san, do you need something?"

"What was Jones saying to you earlier?"

"He asked me why you had a whistle and where he could get one."

"Oh."

"Why?"

"I found a similar note on my locker."

"Right..."

* * *

_'Hey Artie, you got connections to get me an awesome whistle?'_

_

* * *

_"Hey Artie, didja get my whistle?"

Arthur looked up, sputtering in surprise to find the other blonde only a few centimeters from his face. "N-no, I am not getting you a bloody whistle, you git! A-and what was that note all about a-anyway, Jones?"

Alfred pouted. "I wan'ed a whistle," he mumbled, pushing the tips of his two forefingers together in and awkward hand movement.

Arthur sighed. "Jones, this isn't your registration room, so if you would kindly stop sulking and leave."

"Well then," the younger boy said in mock indignation, "I see how it is. I know when I'm not wanted!" And with a wink of his eye, he swung his bag over his shoulder and sauntered out class 2A's base classroom, whistling the old fashioned way.

Arthur twitched. "Jones!"

A cheery face reappeared around the door. "Yeah Artie?"

"Jacket off."

* * *

"Jones?"

"Yes?"

"Stop calling me Artie."

"Only if I get a whistle."

Alfred didn't get his whistle, Arthur didn't get his dignity."

* * *

"Arthur-san!"

Arthur turned around, smiling slightly at Kiku who was running towards him. "Hmm, you need something, Kiku?"

"Ah, just wondering where Alfred is."

Arthur looked at him in confusion. "Well, go ask his brother or one of his friends. I'm not the boy's keeper."

Kiku looked him up and won with equal confusion. "I was under the impression that you were close?"

Arthur sputtered, his cheeks flushing for some reason he didn't like to think of. "No! I-I never speak to him!"

The Japanese boy blinked before stammering. "O-oh, I'm sorry for assuming, Arthur-san! But do you know w- Ah, Alfred!"

Arthur swirled around to find the obnoxious blonde invading his space once again. He flushed, taking a few hurried steps backwards watching as Kiku and Alfred made conversation about whatever it was that Kiku wanted to talk about.

That boy was going to be the death of him, and then he'd be stuck with the funeral bill as he was far too young to have taken out life insurance.

"Jones," he said curtly, pointing at the blonde's jacket, "This is your third time, right?"

Alfred looked over, not looking the least bit interested. "Yeah, what of it Artie?"

"That means confiscation."

The result was immediate. The look of indifference fell off his face to reveal one of utter horror as he ripped the jacket from his shoulders and held it tight against his chest, tears coming into his eyes as he wailed hysterically, earning stares from those around him. "No! You're not taking it! It's mine!"

Arthur looked on in dismay before forcing his expression to stern. "No. The rules are the rules, and they are not going to bend to your whim. Now give it here!"

Alfred stared, his eyes watering even more. And then he legged it, racing down the hallway leaving a very annoyed student council president in the dust.

"H-hey! Get the bloody hell back here you prat!" Arthur yelled, chasing after him in hot pursuit.

Luckily for Arthur, Alfred had been bleary eyed and tripped on the stairs, landing flat on his face on the hallway floor. He was still there, groaning when the Englishman arrived, snatching up his jacket.

"I ought to give you detention for that little stunt you tried to pull there," he growled angrily, poking the American in the head relentlessly as Alfred continued to plead for his jacket. "You're not getting it back! Why should the rules be any different for you?"

Alfred looked up, the tears not falling, but still glistening in his eyes. "Cuz I'm special.

"You'll get it back tomorrow."

* * *

"Arthur, mon cher, what are you doing?"

"A-ah, paperwork! Like I always do- like _you _should be doing!"

"No, I believe you're hugging a certain obnoxious American's jacket."

"I-I was doing no such thing!"

"It's still in your hands and you're still blushing."

"Shut it!"

"Mon cher, you are a terrible liar."

* * *

"Jones, here's your jacket."

Alfred turned around, starry eyed as he ran out of his registration room to retrieve his beloved, holding it close once he grabbed it out of Arthur's hands. "Ah! I missed you! Ah!" he cooed strangely at the inanimate object before shrugging off his bag and moving to put it back on.

Arthur held out a hand and stopped him. "Its still school and you still cant wear it."

Alfred threw the puppy dog eyes.

"Not working," the Englishman said before continuing, "Why do you still wear it? I mean, its summer and it must be roasting in the big leather thing, so you're not cold. Its not exactly in fashion right now, so you cant be doing it to be cool. What is it?"

Alfred looked at him strangely before breaking into a grin. "Everyone needs a feature for people to remember them by; there is other guys in this school who look similar to you and look similar to me, and its easy to get mixed up without that feature. Except, you've got the eyeb-"

"Where are you going with this, Jones?" Arthur cut across.

"That I wear the jacket, and people remember the jacket!" the American grinned happily, "I hate being the same as anyone else, cuz I wanna be different. I don't wanna blend in with a buncha sheepy clones wandering around like lost souls in a whirlwind of popularity. I want to be myself, and only that."

Arthur sighed, shaking his head in defeat. "I don't think anyone will be forgetting you anytime soon, Jones, so you've no need for that jacket. Leave it at home tomorrow."

Alfred stuck out his tongue before trotting back in along to his classroom. Arthur put a finger to his forehead in thought.

"Hey Artie!"

Arthur was called out of his daze by the re-arriving blonde. "What?" he sighed.

"My name's Alfred. I know you're British, but no need to be so formal, love," he smirked, watching Arthur cringe at the accent attempt.

"Shut it!"

"Bye Artie!"

"No jacket tomorrow...Alfred..."

* * *

By the next day, Alfred's cowlick and fringe had been dyed pink.

Arthur had just given up.


End file.
